GK: You grew up in St. Paul, living the stifled life of a midwestern girl but you dreamed of high fashion (SFX: FLASHBULBS) and big cities and personal hair stylists (FRENCH) and Gulfstream jets zipping across the Atlantic (JET), but you were stuck in St. Paul with your parents Larry and Gail until one day you invented this marvelous thing:



SS: The thermal thong.



GK: The thermal thong -- it enabled beautiful women in the upper Midwest to go around half naked in January and February and it debuted at the Winter Carnival Fashion Igloo (SFX: EXCITED GASPS, FROZEN FLASHBULBS) and you earned a gazillion dollars and in early 2008 you flew to Milan for the spring fashion show (ITALIAN) and on to Paris (FRENCH) and then came back to New York where you threw a big fashion party --



SS: The Thermal Thong Throng.



GK: -- in which famous celebrities came in thermal thongs, Gwyneth Paltrow, Faith Hill, Charlize Theron, Twyla Tharp, Toby Keith, Keith Urban, Will Smith, Heather Locklear, Dave Matthews, and you were written up in the Style section of the Times and then in the fall of 2008 -- (SFX: ALARM)... Giant brokerage firms began to tremble (BUILDING SHAKES) and the housing bubble suddenly burst (SFX: LOUD POP) and the buzzards and vultures circled over Wall Street. (SFX) You were worth a hundred million one day and fifty million the next, and in Washington the government is slow to respond.



TR: (BUSH) I don't get it. I thought we were doing all the right things. And now we're in a crisis? It doesn't make sense.



GK: (SFX: TICKER TAPE, "SELL SELL SELL") And the next day you're worth twenty-five million and at the Federal Reserve Bank the hallways are running red with the blood of sheep and goats being sacrificed (ANIMALS) -- burnt offerings made to the gods of finance -- (CHANTING: O YA O YA O YA) and then the next day you're worth twelve million as panic breaks out on the Street (SFX: CHAOS, TICKER TAPE RACING, BELLS RINGING)

TR: Sell! Sell! Sell!



GK: And the Fed grasps at straws --



TR: PRINT MORE MONEY! MORE! MORE! (SFX: PRINTING PRESSES REVVING UP TO HIGH SPEED)



GK: And then you wake up one morning and your net worth is minus a million and on Wall Street the economists are chanting in vain -- (CHANTING: HUNNA HOYA HUNNA HOYA)... and the creditors are at the door... (KNOCKING, "YOU IN THERE? COME ON OUT!") ... and you're forced to flee the city in shame and at the age of 28, move back in with your parents in St. Paul. Quiet nights watching reruns on TV.

(TV AUDIO)



TR (DAD): Boy o boy, nothing like a quiet evening at home.



SS: (MOTHER) Are you wearing underwear, young lady? Are you?



SS (DAUGHTER): Moth-er! I am 28 years old, for your information.



SS (MOM): As long as you're living under my roof, you will dress decently. Here. Put these on.



SS (DAUGHTER): A girdle?



SS (MOM): Put it on. Now.



(SFX: SNAP OF UNDERWEAR)



GK: (THEME) Wouldn't this be a good time for a piece of Rhubarb Pie? Yes, nothing gets the taste of shame and humiliation out of your mouth like Beeboparebop Rhubarb Pie and Rhubarb Pie filling.

(RHUBARB CHEER)

ALL:


R-H-U-B-A-R-B
(CLAPS)
MAKES A PERSON WILD AND FREE
(DRUMS)
L-I-B-E-R-T-Y


(CLAPS)
SERVE IT IN A CAKE OR PIE
(DRUMS)
BEBOPAREEBOP
BEBOPAREEBOP
BEBOPAREEBOP
........YEAH.